


Strong Enough To Break

by tonkssweeney



Category: Hanson (Band), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Incest, M/M, POV First Person, Sibling Incest, Strong Enough To Break Era, Suicidal Thoughts, Underage Sex, Underneath Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2019-11-27 01:52:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18188255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonkssweeney/pseuds/tonkssweeney
Summary: Taylor suffers from depression while recording 'Underneath' and turns to Zac for comfort.Written in Taylor's POV unless otherwise noted. Loosely based on the Strong Enough To Break documentary.TW: Talks of suicidal ideation and descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks.





	1. Chapter 1

It seemed like forever since we had been in the studio, even though in reality it had really only been a year. My brothers and I were beyond eager to start writing and recording our third studio album. Due to lack of proper advertising from our label that had been in the midst of a large merger, our second studio album received only moderate success. Now that our former label had officially merged with Island Def Jam, we were to record our new album with what was essentially complete strangers. It made me a little nervous to work with a new group of people, especially when we had bonded so strongly to the ones we'd worked with on our first and second albums, but I imagined a fresh perspective would only improve the situation at hand.

It was our hope to continue, if not improve the momentum that we had gained throughout the past five years. We were proud of what we created and knew that we still had a solid fan base that was hungry to hear more music from us. We made it a habit to never stop writing, pausing whatever we were doing in that moment if the inspiration struck us. Because of that, we already had a handful of songs in our repertoire that we were considering for the new record. It made me feel good about the vibe going into the studio.

In order to keep our fans engaged, we collectively decided to videotape the journey of creating a record from start to finish. The plan was to educate and give an inside perspective of what it takes to get a record made in today's day and age. We were no strangers to cameras following us around, barely even noticing when they were recording us most of the time. This circumstance would be no different, I assumed.

I packed my songwriting notebook and my laptop into my messenger bag. Zac and Isaac were already waiting at the door for me - I had a bad habit of always being late. My family always teased me about it, saying that I lived in a slightly different timezone than the rest of them, which lovingly came to be known as 'Hanson Time'. I knew that I would never live it down if I had made us late to our first day of demo recording, so I hurried to pull my jacket on before running down the stairs.

"Sorry, guys."

Isaac and Zac were both staring at me: Zac with amusement in his eyes, Isaac's full of annoyance more than anything else.

"Let's go," Isaac said as he lead the way to our rental car, hopping in the driver's seat. I climbed into the passenger seat and Zac took his familiar spot in the back. He had a unique skill of falling asleep in cars, which I assumed is why he always liked sitting in the back seat.

When we arrived at the studio, I felt adrenaline bumping through my veins. All we had to do was choose the songs we wanted to record and send the demo to Jeff, our new A&R guy. There was no question in my mind that once he heard our material, he would sign off his approval for us to record our third, full length studio album. Our sound was evolving, but at the core we were still the same band we had always been. There was no way Jeff could deny it.

We took our seats in the lounge, Zac sitting next to me on the couch, Isaac across from us in the chair, guitar on his lap. Our notebooks and laptops were in front of us and we went through song by song, a dry run-through of only guitar, keyboard, and a tambourine. Not all of the lyrics had been decided but the rough melodies were there, giving us enough of an idea of which songs were at the top of our list to record.

"I think 'Get Up And Go' is our best choice to record first," I said, glancing between Isaac and then Zac, who's knee was bobbing up and down. He could never sit still, which was just one of the things that made him a good drummer.

"I'd have to agree. Jeff is going to love this song when he hears it," Isaac replied. "Zac - what are your thoughts?"

"Totally on board. I think once we complete the lyrics, we'll have one Hell of a song."

I looked over at my younger brother, sixteen - almost seventeen years old - and I wondered where the time had gone. He'd always been an integral part of the band, no doubt about it, but because he was so young when the band started he rarely had anything solid to contribute to the decision making process. That obviously had changed over the recording of our last album, as he aged and got more experience in the business.

I couldn't help but notice how much he'd changed over the past five years when I looked at him, _really_ looked at him. His hair was long and unruly, his once thin frame now broad, baby fat dissipated and replaced with a layer of muscle. It seemed as though he'd become a man in the blink of an eye. His masculine features, coupled with an undying confidence that only he possessed made me admire him and look up to him in a way that an older brother typically didn't share with a younger brother. Jealousy was never really a quality that I possessed, but I came close to it when I looked at Zac. Some days I wished I was more like him.

I snapped out of my trance when Zac got up from the couch and headed into the studio, settling behind his drum set. He'd lay down his parts first, then Isaac, and then my own. Finally after the track was laid, we could add in vocals. We had enough experience to produce our own demos, but would eventually call in the help of a few professionals to gain their insight before we sent the demo off to Jeff. 

Isaac settled behind the controls as Zac laid down take after take of his drum parts. Zac was always solid in the studio and usually required less takes than both Isaac and myself.

I was sitting on the couch, singing softly to myself the bit of lyrics we already had completed when Matt walked in. Matt was a roadie from our last tour that we had quickly befriended. It wasn't that often that we encountered other people in our age group, so naturally we formed a strong bond with him immediately. Matt was twenty-four and from Texas, and he'd been part of the Mercury label for four years prior to the merger. He'd agreed to be the one to video record our process for the documentary, which made the most sense since more than likely he'd be hanging out with us anyway.

"Hey, Taylor," he greeted me, his green eyes piercing into mine. I'd never seen someone with eyes so green, and they were truly hypnotizing. "I see I'm already missing some of the fun."

"Not at all. We just started." I patted the seat on the couch next to me. "Good view back here. Might be a decent place to start recording."

"You got it."

Matt was a hard worker and rarely let himself get distracted by our friendship when he was working. It could have been very easy to get lost in conversation, chatting about things that had nothing to do with music, like girls and video games. But he was a professional, and kept it so throughout our entire work day.

The saying is true - when you enjoy what you do, you'll never work a day in your life. We'd spent the entire day at the studio, only stopping to eat lunch and take the occasional bathroom break. Eight hours later, it was finally my turn to get in the booth and record vocals. We'd had them defined and complete, or at least I thought, until I got in there and found some of the lines difficult to sing in tempo. Zac and Isaac were laughing at me from the other side of the glass.

"Stop it, you guys," I laughed with them. "I need to practice it a few times - hold on." I cleared my throat and took a moment before singing the line - it wasn't working. It sounded like a mumbling mess of shit. So I changed a word in that particular line, which gave it one less syllable than it had before. Bingo.

"Sounds great, let's try it now with the track," I heard Isaac say.

Two hours later, all vocals were recorded and we sat in the lounge listening to the full and complete demo. The hairs on my arms stood up straight and I felt tingly all over, a tell-tale sign that I was truly in tune with the song we had recorded. In my mind, it felt like a potential hit. I envisioned hearing it on the radio, our fans dancing around to the catchy beat. Zac and Isaac both were jamming out, Isaac doing air guitar and Zac headbanging, his wild hair going all over the place. Matt was giving us a silent thumbs up from behind the camera. It felt good to know we were all on the same page.

As I listened to the song and felt the positive energy around me, I experienced a high I hadn't felt in a long time. But like anything in life, what goes up is sure to come crashing down.


	2. Chapter 2

It took five additional days for us to record three more songs for our demo. Each song had it's own identity, representing the range of talent we had as a band. We were evolving from pop music into rock and roll, which always seemed like a natural progression to us. Growing up on classic rock and roll had without a doubt inspired our songwriting.

Once we finished recording, we invited a producer in to listen to the demo and make suggestions. It may have been a little odd to invite someone in during the beginning process of demo recording, but we felt that it kept us grounded. We never frowned upon asking for a second opinion, an unbiased second set of ears. He seemed to understand the sound we were going for and the statement we were trying to make. When he left the studio with very little suggestions for us, I felt justified in my confidence of this demo. We were on the right track, figuratively speaking.

With the demo sent off to Jeff for review, all there was to do was wait. Waiting for a response, for the green light to start recording the full album, set me on edge. Ambition, which was feeling more like anxiety at this point, was coursing through my veins and making idle things like normal conversations difficult to pursue. I was longing to know Jeff's thoughts, his feedback, and if he'd recommend us to continue recording.

Back at our rental home, the three of us sat down for dinner. I picked at the food on my plate - lasagna and a salad - hungry, but not in the mood to eat. I'd taken a few bites when I decided that I was full. I heard Isaac comment on my eating habits, correlating it to my thin frame, but I ignored him. He often said things to get under my skin and I had learned long ago how to ignore him and put on a smile. 

"Don't worry, Ike, I've got it," Zac said as he reached for my mostly full plate, dumping the contents of it onto his empty one. He shoved a heaping forkful of lasagna into his mouth and winked at me. I couldn't help but chuckle at him, knowing that while he was trying to break the tension between Isaac and myself, he had also wanted seconds.

I was about to excuse myself from the table when our Dad walked in. Our Dad usually had a perpetual smile on his face - which is exactly where Zac acquired that particular trait - so when he appeared and his lips were turned downwards, I could tell something was up. It was an expression we didn't see often from him so when it happened, it made my stomach turn.

"Hey boys," he greeted us as he joined us at the dinner table. "I just got off the phone with one of the reps from IDJ. Jeff received the demo today and gave it a listen."

"And I can tell by your tone that his feelings were less than enthusiastic," Isaac stated. It wasn't a question, but more of a certainty.

I felt myself go weak, like all of the blood in my body evaporated. In fact, I was sure I looked as pale as a ghost in that moment.

"He liked the material but said that we don't have a hit song yet. He suggested that we keep writing, and he is going to send our Team a list of potential co-writers to work with."

Co-writing. Okay. We could handle that. We'd done that before - no harm in doing it again.

Isaac was looking at me inquisitively because I remained silent, something that was mostly foreign for me. Usually I had an opinion on everything and was never afraid to be the voice for the group. His intense look shook me, snapping me back into my normal mode.

"While I'm disappointed to hear that he wasn't in love with the music, I think co-writing is a decent idea," I finally said. When I glanced over at Zac, he nodded at me. He too usually stayed quiet, only interjecting when something important needed to be said. He was a man of few words, but when he said them, he said them with purpose.

"Alright. Let's give the Management Team a call," Dad said, pulling out his cellphone. He rang Chris, one of our contacts at Tribune Management. Chris seemed to have had a similar conversation with Jeff, but he had his doubts.

"It was strange. Jeff mentioned to me that he wasn't in a hurry to get you guys in a room with a producer, and to start recording," Chris told us, his voice echoing off the walls on speaker phone. "But I agree, let's give co-writing a shot and then we'll see what happens."

Their conversation concerned me and left me with a bitter taste in my mouth when we ended our call with Chris. Why would someone who was on our team and supposed to support us say those kind of things? It felt like there was a dark, ominous cloud looming over us.

"I don't understand why he doesn't get 'Get Up And Go'," Isaac said bitterly. My Dad's reply was hazy in my ears as I willed myself to not let negativity overtake me. I enjoyed being the positive force over our group.

"He didn't say no to it, just that it wasn't the hit," I corrected him. "We still have a shot at this. Let's not give up so soon."

"I agree with Tay on this," Zac interjected. "The news totally blows, but we only sent him four songs. We know we've got a lot more written, and a few new ideas that haven't come to fruition yet. Co-writing seems to make sense."

As usual, when Zac finally speaks, he speaks with determination.

It was obvious that Isaac was still a bit perturbed, understandably so, but he nodded in agreement. "I guess you're right."

We spent the final hours of the night in mostly silence. The majority of our conversation was based on what movie we wanted to watch together as we settled in front of the television. Eventually after a little debate, we landed on Jurassic Park. It was our go-to movie when we couldn't decide on anything else.

Zac and I sat on the couch and Isaac made himself comfortable in the recliner next to us. I decided to allow myself to relax and let go of my anger at Jeff. Being in this business meant I couldn't be immune to criticism. I had to take it, whether I agreed with it or not, and grow from it. A bruised ego would only give me more writing content, I told myself.

I grabbed my songwriting notebook and jotted down a few notes. Isaac was deeply entrenched in the movie and Zac was snoring (no surprise) next to me, his head leaning against the back of the couch, his neck fully exposed. I shook my head and returned my attention to my notebook and reread the lines I'd just written.

_Waking up this morning thinking this can't be real_  
_But they say there is nothing love can't heal_

I jumped slightly when Zac's head landed on my shoulder, rogue strands of hair tickling my chin. He was still snoring softly, his breath warm on my neck. I glanced down at him the best I could and decided he looked too peaceful to wake. I rested my chin on the top of his head and breathed in his natural scent, mixed in with whatever bottled shampoo had been on sale that week.

The movie was almost over and it was nearly midnight when I heard Isaac snoring from his spot in the recliner. I shook my head and chuckled to myself, no longer surprised that both of my brother's snores seemed to be in harmony together.

These two weirdos were everything to me. They were not only my brothers, my blood, but they were my rock, and I knew that we were going to overcome the hardships being tossed our way as long as we stayed together.


	3. Chapter 3

Co-writing with Matthew Sweet was a blast. We left the session in one of the most positive moods we ever experienced when working with someone outside our normal clan. He seemed to really understand who we are as a band and what we were trying to say with our music. The session brought us two new songs, one titled _I Almost Care_ , and the other _Underneath_ , which was the song I had began writing a few days prior. I Almost Care was a good song, but Underneath was special in the sense that it was the epitome of what we were feeling. There was no way IDJ wouldn't be able to hear its potential.

Before the day was over, Matthew Sweet went as far as to compliment our willingness to work together even when we disagreed, telling us it was a rare thing to find among bands, especially bands of brothers. When he said that, I caught a glimpse of both Isaac and Zac grinning at me; it always amused me how they waited for my reaction, my approval of things. That was probably the main reason our Management Team decided long ago that I would be the 'unofficial leading man' of the group, a title that never seemed to bother my brothers.

After a few days of successful co-writing, we entered the studio once more to record the new songs we had written. Morale was still high and I felt good about the new material. We were on the right track, I thought, with the amount of songs we had for a new demo.

Isaac was behind the glass laying down his guitar parts when I received a call on my cellphone from our Dad. The calls always went to me since I was most likely to answer the phone.

"Hey Dad, what's up?" I motioned for Zac to take the seat next to me and handle the controls while Isaac was recording so that I could take the call in the hallway.

"I just talked to our Management and we have the three of you signed up to do a songwriting retreat in France. IDJ approved."

"In France?" my voice turned up at the end. I was shocked to hear that they would throw money at us to travel internationally to co-write more songs.

"You heard me right. As soon as you all are done in the studio you better get packing. We leave in two days."

"Alright," I chuckled a little. "I'll share the news with Ike and Zac and we'll see you tonight."

I hung up the phone feeling conflicted. It wasn't ideal to keep co-writing with other musicians because it meant the label didn't have complete confidence in us. On the other hand, if they were willing to spend thousands of dollars for us to travel to Europe to write songs, I couldn't be completely mad. It was their money, after all.

When I returned to the room, Isaac was on the other side of the glass with Zac, his Les Paul strapped around his body. Their right eyebrows were hooked as they looked at me with questioning eyes.

"We're going to France," I told them. "In two days. There's a songwriting retreat that IDJ wants us to attend."

"France? DUDE, that's AWESOME!" Zac exclaimed, kicking the floor so that he could spin around in his computer chair.

Naturally the pessimist, Isaac seemed less enthusiastic. "So basically they're shipping us off to work with other people because they don't like any of our new songs."

I didn't want to agree with him even though I actually did, so I took my place as the optimist. "C'mon Ike. Let's see the bright side in this. We're getting paid to travel and write new songs. To be inspired in one of the most romantic places in the world."

"That too," Zac chimed in, stilling his spinning chair.

Isaac shrugged and strummed his guitar a few times. "I guess so."

"Let's finish up laying down these tracks so we can get out of here and head home." I recognized the word after I said it, but maybe it wasn't a slip up. Our rental was supposed to be temporary but as the months went by it was feeling more and more like it was permanent housing.

Over the next two hours we finished a rough recording of both songs and made a pit stop at In-N-Out Burger before heading back to the house. Recording was exhausting in every sense - emotionally, mentally, even physically - but that was nothing a little greasy food couldn't fix.

Isaac planted himself at the kitchen island with his laptop while Zac and I took seats in the living room, Zac playing video games in between munching on fries and me quietly watching him. Gaming wasn't my strong suit so I typically only played the part of the spectator.

Much later that night, after Isaac doubled and tripled checked both mine and Zac's luggage (he had a weird obsessive compulsive thing, like he was afraid we'd forget something), I headed upstairs to start getting ready for bed. I changed into my pajama shorts and a tee-shirt and settled under the covers with the latest issue of _Architectural Digest_. Unlike Zac, I had a penchant for needing to settle down and unwind before I fell asleep.

I browsed through each page, reading line by line, and it was nearly two am when I figured out that sleep probably wasn't going to come to me any time soon. My mind was buzzing with a plethora of thoughts, like a hundred bees were swarming around in my head. I thought about our trip to France and wondered if it would prove to be fruitful. I daydreamed of our album release party and the announcement of the world tour that would inevitably follow. These thoughts made me feel uneasy and excited at the same time - why did I do this to myself?

I pulled myself out of bed and tiptoed down the hall to Zac's room. I knew he'd be asleep, but I wanted to talk to my best friend, the one who knew me better than anyone else.

I planted myself on the edge of the bed next to him and nudged him gently with my palm. He turned from his side to his back but didn't wake up. I sighed quietly and mumbled to myself, "This was a bad idea."

As I made my way to the door, I heard Zac's raspy voice call out to me. "Tay? What're you doin'?"

"Nothing - go back to sleep," I whispered, as if I was still trying to not disturb him.

Zac sat up and rubbed his eyes, his long hair was loose and disheveled. He looked cute when he was sleepy.

"Are you alright?"

I nodded to him, my hand still on the doorknob. "Yeah, just couldn't sleep."

Zac slid over towards one side of the bed, the one closest to the wall, and pulled back the covers. "C'mere," he motioned towards the newly available spot.

I chewed my bottom lip. We hadn't done this in a while - shared the same bed. I felt a little lame needing my younger brother to lull me into sleep.

But his bed looked so warm and inviting.

I nodded and climbed into bed next to him, my head falling onto his pillow. "Are you really excited about going to France?" I whispered.

"Yeah, but why aren't you?" he retorted, his head settling beside mine on the pillow, our noses only an inch or so apart. 

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Just have a bad feeling, that's all. Not about the retreat, but about Fenster. I'm afraid that he's going to make this really difficult for us." 

That fear was one I had vowed to keep to myself, but it weaseled its way through my lips anyway. Now the fear had a face and a name. It was real.

And I didn't feel any better admitting it.

"It'll be alright, Tay," Zac yawned, his breath hot on my lips. "We'll make it work because we always make it work."

I smiled a little and pulled the comforter up Zac's arms and shoulders, tucking him in as best as I could. "Get some sleep. We'll talk more about this later."

He nodded. "You can stay here with me, you know. I don't mind."

"I know."

For as long as Zac has been alive, we have been inseparable. As children we never fought over normal brotherly things, like toys or girls. Rather, our fights are more like passionate discussions about things like music and business. And even when we do argue, we make up quickly.

Throughout the years I've always turned to Zac for comfort, and for all of the things that fame has changed in our lives, I'm glad that that's the one thing that has remained constant. My little brother is, and has always been the best part of me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's left feedback on this story so far! I hope to post another chapter before the end of the week. Stay tuned!


	4. Chapter 4

It was two am when I stumbled back to our hotel, and I was drunk.

The legal drinking age was eighteen and while I hadn't planned to take advantage of that perk, the new friends I'd made had other plans. How could I say no to some of the best wine in the world?

After they dropped me off, I made it into the elevator by some miracle. I'd been drunk a few times before, but never to this extent, where words were blurry and still objects were spinning.

And forgetfulness. There was that, too.

I was fairly certain that my room number was 305, so I wobbled over to the door and fumbled in my pocket for the key, sliding it into the lock. It flashed a red light at me and I huffed, giving the door handle a strong jiggle. I tried the key card three more times before giving up, pressing my pathetic forehead against the door. Everything around me was moving in slow motion, like wax bubbles floating in a lava lamp.

Just as I'd pretty much came to terms with sleeping in the lobby that night, the door swung open, causing me to falter on my already unsteady feet.

"Taylor? Jesus, you scared me. I thought someone was trying to break in." When I looked over, Zac was staring at me, his eyes full of concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. Thought this was my room."

He raised an eyebrow and leaned in, sniffing from my neck to my mouth. "You're drunk." It wasn't a question.

"Accidentally," I tried to defend myself. "But yes."

Zac sighed and reached for my wrist, pulling me into the room so that he could shut the door behind me. Sometimes I wondered if he should have been the older brother.

He motioned towards the queen sized bed and I obliged, taking a seat at the foot. Sitting helped a little, and I was finally able to focus my eyes enough to look at my brother. He was wearing only his boxer shorts and his hair was disheveled. It was clear that I'd woken him up.

"So how's it going?" 

I felt like an idiot as soon as I'd asked the question. Two am wasn't really a time for small talk, but we'd barely spoken the entire time we were at the retreat. The retreat was successful thus far, at least I thought so. We were separated most of the day, paired with other songwriters, writing music that was outside of our comfort zone. We were so tired by the end of the night that we didn't have much time to catch up.

"It's two am and I'm tired. You gonna get undressed or what?" His arms were crossed over his bare chest, and he was staring me down.

"I've gotta head back to my room," I said. "Do you... do you remember the number?"

I sounded pathetic. Thank God I had ended up at Zac's room and not Ike's, as he was sure to not only tease me, but make me feel bad about getting drunk in a foreign city with people who were practically strangers.

Zac shook his head and walked over, kneeling in front of me. "You're not going anywhere," he said, "you're staying here where I can make sure you don't choke on your own vomit, or something."

Chuckling, I unwound the scarf around my neck and slid off my jacket, sending both to the floor. "Right. Good looking out, kid."

I was slipping out of my tee-shirt when I felt Zac tugging my boots off, mumbling something about my 'big stupid feet'. I was grateful for the help because there was no way I'd be able to take off my shoes without falling over.

My jeans were the last to go before I slipped under the thick, fluffy comforter. I'd never felt a hotel bed as comfortable as this one, like I was laying on a cloud. Then again, I'd never been this drunk before, either.

Zac yawned as he climbed into bed next to me, our feet tangled together under the covers. "Trash can is next to your side of the bed if you gotta hurl," he yawned again.

"Thanks," I mumbled. The room was still spinning even when I closed my eyes - this was going to be a long night.

The next time my eyes opened, the clock read three-thirty am. I was still a little lightheaded and my limbs felt tingly, but the room was no longer spinning. My eyes focused on Zac, who was laying on his side facing me, his lips parted just enough to omit the tiniest of snores, and strands of his long, blonde hair fell over his left eye. Puberty was a bitch to a lot of teenage boys, but Zac was one of the lucky ones who bypassed the awkward stage and went straight to the broad shouldered, thick lips stage. At sixteen, his features were way more masculine than both mine and Isaac's.

I tucked that stray hair behind his ear and let my hand linger, using my index finger to trace the outline of his ear, cheek, and jaw. His eyes fluttered open and I almost felt bad for waking him, but it was worth it for the way the moonlight came through the curtains and highlighted his brown eyes.

"You okay?"

I hated the fact that I could recount how many times he had asked me that since we started working on our third album. I _was_ okay, but I felt myself changing in ways that I couldn't place as either positive or negative.

"Yeah," I whispered, moving in closer to him, my head now on his pillow. I don't know if it was the alcohol, the moonlight, or the way my baby brother had grown up to be one hunk of a man, but it was getting more difficult by the second to ignore my urge to kiss him.

I knew it was wrong and that the act would damn me to Hell for all eternity, but I wasn't sure I entirely cared. We'd kissed once before, before we were even teenagers, just to try it. Neither one of us knew what we were doing and when we were done we just burst into a fit of giggles. 

"Actually, there's one thing," I started, ending the sentence with my lips pressed against his, eyes closed because I was afraid to see the look on his face. The worst he could do was push me away, the worst I could do was blame it on the copious amount of wine I'd consumed two hours ago.

Instead his lips pressed back against mine. They felt fuller, more rough than I remembered. His palm rested against my bare chest over my heart that was erratically beating in a rhythm that only a drummer could appreciate. My breath caught in my throat - I hadn't been expecting him to kiss me back - so it took me an extra beat to to refocus my mind on the task at hand.

I kissed him again, feeling a little braver as the moments went by, my tongue brushing over his lips and into his mouth. He tasted like Crest toothpaste, minty and spicy. His hand moved from my chest and into the back of my hair, gripping tight enough to draw a small moan from my lips.

"You're drunk," he whispered into my mouth, his tongue flicking against my lips.

"Mmph," I contested halfheartedly. I was sober enough to know I wanted to keep kissing him, so I leaned in and tried to capture his lips with mine, but the hand he had in my hair tugged my face away.

"Go to sleep, Tay," he whispered again, pushing my head forward to kiss me hungrily, sucking my tongue into his mouth. He yanked my head back again, separating us once more. "Go to sleep."

Before I could retort, he rolled over onto his other side, facing the wall, leaving me pouting and incredibly hard inside my boxers. I moved in closer to him, still giving him the space that he was asking for, but enough to where I could nuzzle my face in his hair. Like magic, the scent of him lulled me into a peaceful sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

When I woke up the next morning Zac was gone, and the space in bed that he once occupied was cold and empty. I searched the hotel room high and low for a message, or some kind of indication of how Zac was coping with the events of the previous night. When I found no such note, it then occurred to me that maybe he didn't _want_ to acknowledge what had happened between us the night before, and I felt my heart sink into my abdomen.

I returned to my actual hotel room to shower and get ready for another day at the retreat. As I grabbed a croissant from the bakery in the hotel lobby, I gave Zac a ring on his cellphone. It was killing me to know if things were okay between us. The thought of my little brother hating me or thinking that I was a disgusting human being was more than I could handle.

Then again, he _had_ kissed me back.

After a second call that went straight to voicemail, I sighed and hung up. I'd most likely see him at the retreat, if not there then I would hopefully see him afterwards. We were flying back to New York in two days and he'd have to face me - face this - at some point.

To say that I was distracted at the retreat was an understatement. I had nothing to offer my songwriting group in terms of creativity, so I just chimed in every now and then with a _mhm_ or a _that sounds good_. None of them really knew who I was or how out of the ordinary I was acting, so it worked for me, and the rest of the day went on uneventfully.

I couldn't stop thinking about the kiss, how something that should have felt completely wrong felt nothing but right. He'd kissed me back without fight and afterwards he let me stay with him, spooning him in a bed that was large enough to give us both our own personal space. I swear that my lips were still tingling from the weight of his, and the way his tongue danced across them.

When I snapped out of my reverie I noticed that my fingers had been pressed against my lips. I quickly pulled my hand away and ran it nervously through my hair, thankful that no one was paying the least bit of attention to me. By the end of the day, I'd half convinced myself that my kiss with Zac had been made up in my head, the byproduct of drinking too much mulled French wine.

I headed straight back to the hotel, skipping dinner completely. Given how uninvolved I'd been throughout today's activities, I knew there was no way I could carry on a normal conversation with a bunch of strangers for the next couple of hours. Unashamedly, I had every intention of hanging out at the hotel until Zac returned.

A glance at my phone showed exactly zero missed calls from Zac, and if I wasn't paranoid before, I certainly was now. I called him again and naturally got his voicemail, but this time I left a message. I was rambling more than I normally did and I was sure Zac would be able to hear the anxiety behind my words.

"Zac, hey. It's Taylor. Um. Just trying to call you to see what's up. Kind of wanted to talk to you. Anyway, if you're up for it, stop by my hotel room when you get a chance, or give me a call. Talk to you later."

At this point I'd basically resigned to not hearing from him for the rest of the night, and with nothing better to do with my time, I decided to turn in. I stripped down to my boxers and crawled under the covers with only my head poking out, hoping that they had some kind of magical calming powers. 

Just as I'd started to drift into the first stage of slumber, I heard a light knock at the door. I slid out of bed and rubbed the sleep from my eyes before swinging it open, revealing my little brother.

"Hey-" He looked me up and down, eyeing me with curiosity, before returning his gaze to my face. "Did I wake you up, Old Man? It's eight thirty, for Heaven's sake."

I shrugged. "Yeah you did. Did you want to come in?" I stepped back and waited for Zac to cross the threshold before closing the door. "You haven't been answering my calls today."

"It was a busy day," he replied, shrugging out of his coat and his shoes and then taking a seat on my bed. "Wrote a pretty rad song today. I can't wait to play it for you guys when we get back to New York."

"Yeah? I can't wait to hear it."

I watched him as he made himself comfortable in my bed, messing with the pillows so that he could prop himself up against them. He folded his arms behind his head and it made his shirt rise just enough to uncover a small patch of his smooth stomach. The sight of him made my own stomach flip in a way I hadn't felt since our first kiss when I was twelve years old.

"You gonna get in bed or just stand by the door for the rest of the night?"

His question broke me from my trance and I simply nodded before climbing into bed next to him, resuming my position back under the covers. Things seemed normal between us and he didn't seem mad, or disgusted or really... anything.

He grabbed the remote from the nightstand and turned the TV on, flicking through the channels till he found a station that had content in English. But I found myself watching him instead.

Noticing my stares, he sat up so that we were eye level. "What is it, Tay?"

I chewed the inside of my cheek as I planned my words wisely. The last thing I wanted to do was to say something that would ruin any semblance of normalcy left between us. "Last night. We're okay, right?"

Zac nodded, his shoulders relaxing. "Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't we be?"

We stared into each other's eyes for a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. It seemed as though we were both searching for something hidden in each other's souls, but neither of us finding it as quickly as we wanted. 

I decided to let it go. The kiss was a one time thing, a fluke of sorts, and Zac seemed alright with pretending that it had never happened. I guess I was pretty alright with that, too.

"Gah, I don't know what I'm talking about," I finally replied, forcing a small chuckle. "Have you eaten yet? I've got a hankering for a vanilla milkshake from room service."

"God, you're so boring," Zac laughed and grabbed the menu from the nightstand, mulling it over. "I'm gonna go with a chocolate milkshake."

I shook my head at him, my lips curling into a smile at the toothy grin covering his face. Vanilla and chocolate - polar opposites that somehow compliment each other. You can't really have one without the other, and why would you want to? The combination of the two are beyond compare.

Just like us.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks.

The minute our plane landed in New York, we dropped our bags off at the apartment and headed straight for the studio. As far as we were concerned, any minute not spent writing or recording was a minute wasted. 

The retreat in France had proved successful. We entered the studio, each with two new song ideas that we were eager to share. In addition to that we also met Greg Wells, a man whom we hoped that IDJ would sign off on to be our producer. We meshed well with him, both musically and personally, and we felt that if we could produce a few songs with him that Fenster liked, he'd let us continue to work with him for the remainder of the record.

Entering the studio, I was feeling more apprehensive than I had over the past few months. It wasn't my usual style to overthink things, but I was starting to get anxious. I wanted Fenster and the rest of the team over at IDJ to truly be invested in our new material. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that sharing your music with someone is like giving them a glimpse into the deepest, darkest part of your soul. It wasn't always easy to deal with the negative criticism that sometimes came with it.

Over a period of three weeks we poured our heart and soul into three fresh demos. We completed pre-production and then worked with Greg on post-production. When our management team sent the demos to Fenster, the weight on my shoulders only seemed to get heavier.

"Now we wait," Isaac said, taking a seat in the rolling chair next to me. He looked more exhausted than I'd seen him look in a while, but then again, I felt just as exhausted as he'd looked. Even the absurd amount of Starbucks I was consuming every day wasn't doing the job any more.

"Why don't we go out and celebrate? We've been working our tails off and we deserve it," I suggested. We'd been nonstop, either writing at home or recording in the studio for fourteen hours a day. There was no doubt that we were due a break.

"I'm in," Zac peeped up from his spot on the other side of the room. He was sitting on a desk and letting his legs dangle off the edge.

Isaac shook his head and rubbed his eyes, either from exhaustion or frustration - I couldn't quite pinpoint which. "I'm not up for it, guys."

I knew my older brother well enough to know that there was something he wasn't saying. "What is it, Ike?"

He shook his head again, and I turned around to give Zac a questioning look, and he simply shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not feeling confident," he replied after some time. "Fenster has been quite the a-hole thus far, and I'm not feeling confident that he'll like the new stuff."

It was a known fact that Isaac was the pessimist of the group and that he always seemed to find fault in everything, but this time I felt a part of me agree with him. I tried with all of my might to push that part down, down, down until I couldn't recognize it any more.

"Do you not like the stuff we've written?" I asked him.

"I do. I do like it," he countered, letting out a heavy sigh. "I just don't know what I'll do if he comes back and says 'write more'."

I looked at Isaac and then back at Zac again, and I wouldn't be surprised if we were all mirroring the exact same facial expression. His sigh hung in the air between us, catching in our throats so that none of us could retort. Maybe we were all sharing the same fears.

After a period of stagnant silence, I got to my feet and motioned for Zac to join me. "Why don't you go home and get some rest, Ike. Zac and I are gonna go grab a bite and we'll see you back at the apartment."

Zac hopped off the desk and joined me at my side. "Yeah dude, get some sleep. We all need it."

"Yeah, sure. Catch you guys later."

Zac and I left the studio in near silence other than a brief conversation about whether to walk or take a cab to the closest pizza parlor. We eventually settled on walking, and I had the sneaking suspicion that it was because we both wanted time to clear our heads.

"S'chilly out here," Zac muttered to me as he shoved his hands in his pockets. I guess it was pretty chilly, in comparison to Tulsa weather this time of year.

I, on the other hand, was feeling warm despite the cool breeze that was swarming around me. My hands were sweaty no matter how many futile attempts I took at rubbing them on my jeans.

"Yeah, I guess it is." I didn't mean to be short with him but I couldn't get Isaac's words out of my head. His pessimism was infecting me and slowly eating away at my optimism.

I could feel Zac staring at me as we walked together, but I kept my eyes straight ahead, afraid that if I looked into his eyes I'd break. Eventually I felt him grab my hand and yank me in sharply to the left.

"Found a pizza place. C'mon!" he exclaimed, a little more excited than one should probably be for pizza at eight o'clock at night.

I smiled in spite of myself and walked with him into the restaurant, our hands finally releasing when we stepped inside. We both ordered three slices of cheese and two sodas and took a seat at a high top table by the window.

We spent the next twenty minutes talking about everything and nothing, and I marveled at Zac's proficiency at being able to distract me from myself. 

"I think Isaac is wrong," Zac declared, taking a 180 to change the subject. "He's a bit of a worrywart. I think Fenster will dig the tunes."

I felt my face screw up and my stomach turn at the topic change. I tossed the slice of pizza that I'd been nibbling at onto my plate and wiped my hands. They were starting to feel sweaty again and the thought of having to go through the process of finding a new producer that we actually liked made my stomach churn.

"...I'm sorry, should I have not brought it up? Your face changed the minute I said -"

"No, it's fine. I promise," I interrupted him, unable to stop myself from doing so. I just didn't want to talk about this any more. The more it was discussed, the more I felt my resolve wearing down. The only plus side to the back and forth with the record label was that it gave us plenty of source material to work with. "I need to go to the restroom. I'll be back in a minute."

I left the table before Zac could reply and headed into the first available stall, locking myself inside it. I slumped against the wall and shut my eyes tight as I silently willed myself to calm down. My chest felt tight and my pulse was racing like I'd just run a marathon. It was a strange new feeling, to have my limbs tingle and my palms sweat, my heart beating rapidly even though I was as steady as a rock. What in the world was happening to me?

The more I tried to distract myself the less it seemed to work. What if Fenster doesn't like our songs and then IDJ drops us from the label? What if we take too long to record an album and our fans get tired of waiting? These questions were like hands around my throat, strangling me to the point where it was difficult to catch a deep breath.

The concept of time was lost on me as I stood there, slouched against the graffitied wall of the bathroom. It must have been a while though, as eventually Zac came into the bathroom to check on me. I heard a knock at the door followed by his voice. 

"Tay? Are you alright?"

I didn't know how to answer the question so I just unlocked the door and cracked it open enough for him to get the hint. He stepped in cautiously and locked the door behind him again. There we were, cramped into an obscenely dirty bathroom stall together, Zac looking at me with fearful eyes and me having what could only be described as my first anxiety attack. My hands went straight for my face, covering what I could of it. I didn't like Zac to see me so vulnerable.

"Tay..." he whispered, and suddenly I felt his hands on mine, pulling them away from my face. I finally got the courage to look at him, and I detested the expression of concern on his face. He held his hands in mine despite how sweaty they must have felt.

"I thought I was fine," I managed to explain, "but as it turns out, I'm freaking out a little. I've never felt so out of control of things."

And therein was my issue - control. Our fate was suddenly in someone else's hands, and after giving it my all there was literally nothing else I could do to change it.

Zac was frowning but I could tell he was trying hard not to. His big brown eyes were wide and taking me in as if it was the last time he'd ever get to look at me. "It's okay to freak out," he said softly. "You're entitled to your feelings. Plus, as far as I see it, if you're worried about something that means you really care about it, right?" There was hope in his voice, and it was enough for my facial muscles to attempt a smile.

I sighed and leaned my head back against the wall again, letting my eyes slip shut as I began to finally calm down. I felt Zac's hands leave mine and instead they were in my hair, brushing the pestilent layers out of my eyes. His body was close to mine, not really pressing into me deliberately but enough for me to feel the weight of him against me.

The tip of his nose brushed against mine and I sighed before finally opening my eyes to look at him. His hands moved to my cheeks, cupping them as he bumped his nose against mine again, mere moments before he kissed me.

Both of our eyes were open, staring into each other's as we kissed, my mouth giving way to his tongue in a motion that felt more natural than breathing. Eventually I regained feeling in my arms and slid them around his waist, pulling him into me. My eyes closed and I sighed into the kiss, our mouths moving slowly but with purpose, tongues swirling around with each other in a perfect dance.

We finally parted when our lips were red and kiss swollen, but our hands lingered. For those few minutes that we spent kissing, my mind was blank and at peace.

"Thank you, Zac," I whispered, giving his hips a squeeze to physically acknowledge my gratitude for him.

"You're welcome. Now why don't we get the Hell out of this smelly bathroom and go home?"

I chuckled and nodded, pieces of my hair going into my eyes again. "Yes. I think that sounds good."

In fact, nothing had ever sounded better.


	7. Chapter 7

The next six nights were spent in Zac's bed, our arms wrapped around each other as we kissed slowly but affectionately. Our hands never ventured past each other's waists, only staying above the line where it felt safe. Kissing Zac was, for all intents and purposes, an innocent gesture of love, one that filled me up with excitement - something I was sad to say that I hadn't felt for a while now.

At first it had been a suggestion, an offer from Zac after my first anxiety attack - if I didn't feel like being alone, he was here for me, he said. As it turned out I was more dependent on my baby brother than I'd wanted to admit, and I found myself tiptoeing across the hallway to his room every night once everyone else in the house was sleep. Zac had more of a calming affect on me than anything else did; he had a way of making me feel safe even when it felt like the world around me was spiraling out of control.

Shamefully, we had become experts at pretending nothing was different between us. During the day we worked tirelessly on new demos, played football with Isaac during breaks (or rather, forced him to play), and had a family dinner with Dad every night. There were no mentions of our affair, no stolen touches when Isaac wasn't looking, and no extra eye contact. It seemed to work out for us this way, or at least that's what I thought.

On the seventh night, I was starting to feel awkward about our late night trysts. I wanted to prove to myself that I didn't need to make out with my brother every night to feel normal, so I told myself that I was done climbing into bed with him. I was sure he'd understand and agree that we should stop, too, so I tucked myself into my own bed that night, content with the idea of sleeping alone.

I'd finally managed to fall asleep around one in the morning, and it wasn't too much longer that I found myself in a deep, dreamless sleep, the kind that you slip into when your body is too exhausted to go on for another second. When I awoke an indeterminate amount of time later, it was still pitch black in my room, save for the green light coming from my digital clock. I could see the outline of Zac's form as he entered my room, followed by the weight of his body as he knelt onto the bed and crawled on top of me. I was surprised to see him there - he'd never came to me before.

"Hey," I whispered, my voice harsh with sleep.

"You didn't come to me tonight," he whispered back loudly, his voice giving away that he was fully awake. He straddled my waist and settled on top of me, his body weight feeling better than I was wanting to acknowledge.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and then rested my palms on his thighs, stroking them slowly. "Was trying to give us some space," I admitted.

Silence lingered between us for a while as Zac bent down to kiss my clavicle, chin, and then my nose. I hadn't noticed that I was smiling till I felt his lips pressed against mine and I had trouble kissing him back with puckered lips. 

"I don't want space," he finally responded against my lips, his breath warm enough to make me shutter my eyes. I loved the way our lips molded together like that's what they were meant for. I'd never felt that way kissing anyone else.

When my hands migrated to his hips I felt him grind against me, his ass pressing into what was quickly becoming my erection. We'd never done this before, we'd never even acknowledged each other's bodies below the waistband of our boxer shorts. I wasn't sure how to react, so I just kissed him back and kept my hands planted firmly on his hips.

"You think too much," Zac said, his hands slipping under my shirt before dragging his nails down my bare chest, leaving faint, pink lines in their wake. "Just close your eyes and let yourself relax. Can you try that?"

I nodded even though his words made me more anxious than calm. When I looked at him he was giving me one of those iconic Zac Hanson mischievous smiles. "Okay, fine," I sighed, giving in and closing my eyes. When his hips pushed down into mine again I moaned quietly and let my hands round to his ass cheeks.

We kissed harder than we ever had, our tongues pushing into each other's mouths wantonly, his hands locking into my hair. When he tugged at my hair my back arched off the bed on it's own accord. When did my baby brother learn how to kiss like this? I decided right then and there that I never wanted to know. I didn't want to think about him with anyone else.

Zac slithered down my body and I pouted at the loss of him. That was, until his hand slipped into my boxers and grabbed my dick, giving it a squeeze before steadily stroking it. I knew I was a bad brother for not stopping it, after all, I was an adult who should have known better. When I felt his long hair graze my thighs and his warm mouth surrounding my cock, I told myself that I was fine to deal with the consequences later. It felt too damn good to stop.

I reached for Zac's hair, pushing the blonde locks to one side and then grabbing a hold of them, giving it a tug every now and then to let him know just how good he was doing. I could tell that this was his first time giving head because there was a little too much teeth and not enough tongue, but I reveled in the fantasy of knowing that I was his first one.

He grounded my hips with his hands and I wiggled against them eagerly, unable to really control myself. His eyes shot up and met mine, and I was sure if he had the capacity to smirk at me he would have. I bit my lip and pouted as if to apologize, and tugged on his hair for good measure.

"You're gonna make me come, Zac," I whispered, feeling the familiar way my muscles tensed in my abdomen. He didn't stop and my words only seemed to encourage him more, and when I came into his mouth he swallowed every drop of me like a champ.

As soon as it was over I felt the all-too-familiar feeling of worry overcome me. We'd just crossed a line that two brothers should not cross, and I was afraid to think that this would be something too big to ignore in the morning. The idea of losing Zac, my best friend, terrified me to my very core.

He tucked me back into my boxers and climbed on top of me again, laying flat over my body, his head perfectly nuzzled under my chin. I figured I should reciprocate the blow job he'd given me, but when I reached for his boxers he simply shook his head at me.

"It's okay, Tay."

"Zac, that was-"

"Shh," he whispered, bringing a finger to my lips. I was secretly glad he'd cut me off, because I wasn't sure how I was actually going to articulate my feelings to him. "Stop thinking. Just lay with me. _Be_ with me."

His words and the way that he said them plucked at my heart strings. He wasn't the first person to say those words to me, but it was the first time I'd physically felt something when I'd heard them. It scared me to think of what that could mean, so I relented.

Despite the comfort of Zac's body against mine, sleep was not kind to me. In the hours that I actually slept ( _minutes_ seems more like it), I dreamt of everything near and dear to me being taken away. I dreamt of Hanson being dropped from the label and Isaac blaming it on my obsessive compulsiveness. I dreamt of being so sad and pathetic that even Zac got tired of me. My brain was literally showing me my worst fears.

Still half asleep, I stirred underneath Zac, enough to wake him up. His hands grasped my face and brought me back to reality. When I opened my eyes he was staring at me, his thick lips curved south into a frown.

Words were not essential when I was with Zac; he always knew what I was feeling, and how to make it better. Without question he rolled onto his back and pulled me into his chest, his hands stroking my back to calm me. It worked immediately.

"Sorry to wake you," I whispered to him, feeling guilty for doing so. "Had a bad dream."

"Don't sweat it, bro," he replied, his words making me chuckle under my breath. He always knew exactly what to say to get me to smile. "It'll be fine. Tomorrow's a new day."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Suicidal ideations and descriptions of anxiety in this chapter.

It's funny how every day appears pretty much the same - you wake up, go to work, and get in bed for sleep, just to wake up and do it all again the next day. It's even funnier how every day seems monotonous and uneventful, that is, until it _isn't_. Little did I know that when I rolled out of bed in the morning and went to the studio with my brothers, it would be a life altering day for us. For _me_.

  
We spent our morning slaving over the lines in _My Own Sweet Time_ , trying to solidify them so that we could re-record the demo with finished lyrics. It was the only song we got to write with Glen Ballard, but one that was really starting to grow on us because of it's unique key and beat.

  
It had been far too long since we heard from Jeff, and after repeated calls to his office that yielded no responses, it started to feel like he was ignoring us. We were still waiting patiently for his feedback on the last demo we'd sent him, but I was quickly starting to lose my final bit of optimism. I kept it turned on for Ike and Zac, never letting them really see the extent to which my anger and my despair ran. I felt like I needed to be strong for them.

  
Then finally in the middle of the afternoon, the call came. We stepped outside to the back of the building, not wanting to have a private conversation on speaker in the middle of a busy recording studio. We exchanged pleasantries even though I was feeling nothing short of annoyed with the man on the phone. The last thing I wanted to do was be pleasant with him.

  
"So I had the opportunity to listen to the three songs you sent my way," he began, "and uh, I don't think we're nearly as close as we were on the last record."

  
I shut my eyes tight, those words hitting me like I'd been incapacitated with verbal pepper spray. I didn't need my eyes open to know that both Ike and Zac were staring at me, waiting for me to say something. When I didn't respond, Jeff continued, "I promised I'd be honest with you."

"That's definitely _honest_ ," Zac chimed in, sounding far too chipper than both Isaac and myself combined. I always admired the way Zac could turn any situation into a positive one, somehow putting on a smile even though everything was falling apart around him.

  
"Jeff, you have to understand that what you say completely shocks and enrages us," I finally responded. As he continued to talk I felt myself getting weak, like all of the blood in my body had been drained. I'd eventually tuned out what he was saying so that I could focus on staying upright and not passing out right there in the middle of the courtyard.

  
"...you really need to start from scratch."

  
Isaac eventually jumped into the conversation, saving me from saying something really stupid. If it had been up to me, I would have told him to kindly _fuck off,_ but this was business, it wasn't personal - even though it felt more personal to me than anything ever had. Did record execs tell me I need to cut my hair because I look like a woman? Yeah, but I didn't care. Did they tell me to stop smoking because it'll ruin my voice? Of course. But none of those things bothered me like _this_ did.

  
I could see Zac in my peripheral vision, staring at me with concern. I'm not too sure he was listening to Fenster, either. Our eyes connected and I frowned at him, the look in his eyes telling me exactly what he was thinking. He was worried that I was going to have another panic attack, and he wasn't wrong. I could feel it coming on with the way my heart was thrumming in my chest and the nausea that crept out of nowhere.

  
After Jeff gave his speech, we relented and agreed to work with more producers and write more songs. "Thank you for your time," I said bitterly and hung up the phone without giving him the opportunity to respond. I shoved the phone into my pocket and went back inside, swinging the back door open with enough force that both Isaac and Zac could follow me in before it closed.

  
The silence that lingered between us was thick and palpable. Isaac went straight for his guitar, grabbing it roughly by the neck and then falling onto the couch, while Zac stood idly in the corner, watching us. I decided that I couldn't handle being in that room for one moment longer, otherwise I'd suffocate. I made a beeline for the bathroom and locked myself inside.

  
I felt broken in a way that I'd never experienced. It wasn't like getting my heart broken by my first girlfriend, or losing my Grandmother when I was young. It was a new level of despondency. Everything I feared was coming true, and I didn't know where to place these new emotions. Was I overreacting? It certainly didn't feel that way to me.

  
Within minutes there was a knock at the door and I knew it was Zac. I sighed and opened it, letting him in even though I didn't want to talk, and I knew he was going to force me to do just that.

  
"Tay, are you alright?" he asked the split second the door closed behind him.

  
I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest like they were a barrier that would disrupt any other emotions from entering my body. "Not really. Are _you_ alright?"

  
As I'd expected, Zac shrugged. That was the beauty of being so young and carefree, I realized, feeling slightly envious. "You had me worried out there. I thought you were going to pass out, you looked so pale."

  
He was right, of course. Zac always saw right through me. "I feel... God, I don't even know how to articulate what I'm feeling," I sighed again. "It's like, giving someone a piece of your heart just for them to stomp on it and walk away without saying anything, you know?"

  
When Zac nodded, I saw the light come on inside his eyes, a sign that he understood exactly what I meant. "Yeah. Fenster is like a big bully who keeps stealing our homework."

  
I laughed in spite of the whirlpool of emotions circulating inside me. Zac was grinning at me, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, and looking so damn cute that I felt my heart skip a beat at the sight of him. "I needed that laugh. Thank you, Zac."

  
When he took a few steps towards me, I felt my body tense involuntarily. I wanted nothing more than to hold him in my arms and kiss him, but something was holding me back. There was a little voice in the back of my head that was shouting at me to _end this now._ Zac was too young, and far too innocent to deal with me and my madness. It wasn't his job to take care of me - it was the other way around.

  
He leaned into me and I tried to ignore the way his body heat radiated my skin like sunshine. I opened my mouth to speak but before I could utter a word he caught my mouth with his own, devouring all of the bad feelings inside me. For a split second, it worked, and I felt normal.

  
His tongue danced with mine as I reluctantly reached for his face, cupping it until I got a steady enough grip to gently pry his lips away from mine. "Zac," I whispered with caution, averting his eyes until I felt him frown underneath my palms. "I don't- we _can't_ do this any more. I'm sorry, Zac."

  
He looked at me with such turmoil in his eyes that it broke whatever tiny part of me was still hanging on in tact. All this time I thought the kisses and the cuddles were for my benefit, but suddenly I was doubting it. Maybe he'd needed them, too.

  
"Why?" he asked defensively, taking enough steps backwards to where my hands fell abruptly from his face.

  
"Because Zac," I exhaled heavily, feeling buried under the weight of the hatred I felt for myself for hurting him. "What we're doing isn't right, I know you _know_ that. But I'm the adult here and I have to protect you, and lately I haven't been doing a good job of that. I want to be the brother you deserve."

  
To my surprise, he nodded and turned to walk back towards the door, unlocking it. "If this is what you want, I'll respect it," he replied, the level of his maturity astounding me. "But what you're going through? You can't go through that alone, Tay. I hope you understand that."

  
Zac left me in a state of complete amazement. He was right, I knew that deep down, but his way of comforting me was something I should have put an immediate stop to. Realizing that, on top of the bomb Jeff dropped on us just earlier that day, made me feel less than human. For a split second, I pondered if it was worth it to go on in the life I had; I surely felt like I wasn't deserving of it.

  
After I pulled myself together, I went back outside to have a cigarette, knowing I could bum one off of the technicians. It was a nasty habit, one I'd been told time and time again to put an end to, but I felt like I'd earned it today. The toxic smoke had a calming effect on me as I breathed it in, and I felt my heartbeat settle just enough to where I knew I could go back to work and finish off the remainder of our session. I could make it through a few more hours. I could.

  
When I walked back inside, both Isaac and Zac were packing up to leave. "Where are you guys going? We've still got two hours of studio time to use."

  
"We thought it best to go home and recharge our batteries. Start fresh tomorrow," Isaac answered. Zac was avoiding eye contact with me as he slid his notepad into his tote. "How about we grab some take out on the way home?"

  
I stared at Zac, waiting for him to respond, or to even just acknowledge my presence. He didn't. "...yeah, sure. That's fine," I lied. There was no way I could stomach eating anything tonight, especially if Zac continued to act like I didn't exist. This was the last thing I wanted to happen between us, and I felt awful.

  
We loaded ourselves into the car and I tossed Ike the keys to drive. Within minutes Zac was passed out in the back seat and I found myself watching him in the rear view mirror. His lips were parted as he snored quietly, his hands resting on his chest, rising and falling with each breath. The knowledge that I hurt him was almost too much to bare, and for a millisecond I wondered what would happen if I opened the passenger door and just _jumped out_. I shook my head, feeling scared at the thoughts that entered my mind. What was wrong with me? 

  
As we drove down the highway, I thought about the song we'd been struggling with earlier that day. I hummed the tune in my head and reached for my notebook when the words hit me, jotting them down before I lost my nerve.

  
_Tell me where I begin_  
_You can't deny what's already been_  
_I won't break but I can bend_  
_Shaping the scars that I can't mend_  
_Feel your fingers around my throat_  
_There's nothing but bones beneath my skin_  
_Somebody break my fall_  
_I'm slipping down all over again_


	9. Chapter 9

Three weeks had passed since that bullshit call from Fenster, since I broke things off with Zac in the bathroom at the studio, and nothing really had changed except now Zac was mostly ignoring me. We were cordial during the day, bouncing lyric ideas off of each other, me adjusting his slipping headset while he was laying down the beats for a new song, but outside of the studio Zac was rather reclusive. He'd go straight to his room and lock himself in, doing God knows what, or he'd barricade himself in the living room and hog the TV so that he could play video games until the wee hours of the morning. Most nights I sat on the couch and watched him just so that I could spend a little, albeit silent, time with him, hoping that he knew that I was still there for him, there because I _wanted to_ be in spite of how I'd made him feel mere weeks ago.

  
Band morale was low. Every time we worked with a new producer, our creativity peaked but our enthusiasm waned. It was a strange feeling to work so hard on new material, stuff that we were genuinely really proud of, only to be so emotionally drained at the end of the day that we walked out of the studio like zombies. Even our Dad noticed the difference in our band dynamic and, despite numerous calls to our management company and IDJ, we were in no better a spot for this record than we had been three weeks prior.

  
Dad was able to secure a meeting with our management team next week so that we could discuss our options. When he told us to set the date aside I found myself laughing bitterly. The word 'options' gave the illusion that we had a say in all of this melodrama, but I knew the truth. It was either we continue to try to please IDJ by sacrificing our musical creativity, or we fight to remove ourselves from our contract. Neither option was pleasing in my opinion, but I'd have to wait and see.

  
With Dad in bed for the night and Isaac on his third date this week with a different girl, I opted to settle in with the most recent issue of Architectural Digest. I meandered out to the back patio where we had a small pool and a few lounge chairs, intent on reading my magazine under the starry sky. Zac was out there already enjoying the water, completely soaked from head to toe. Keeping in time with our usual routine, I took a seat in the lounge chair closest to him and offered him a nonverbal smile.

  
"Can you actually read that out here? There's barely any light," Zac said to me from the other side of the pool.

  
"There's enough light," I declared, feeling a little happiness in my bones because Zac was _talking_ to me. I heard him hum and then fall silent again, so I turned my attention back to the magazine, flipping it open past the adverts. I could feel his eyes on me, practically burning a hole through the glossy paper in front of me. "What is it, Zac?" I asked him, my eyes peering over the top of the magazine.

  
He shrugged limply. "You should come in the water with me."

  
"Really?" I lowered the magazine and shot him a curious, arched eyebrow.

  
He shrugged again. "Sure. The pool is heated, and it feels nice."

  
"Alright..." Not wanting to seem too eager to be near him, I stood and dropped the magazine on the chair, discarding it with my shirt and my pajama pants. Too lazy to go upstairs and change into a proper bathing suit, I settled on the cotton boxers I'd been wearing underneath.

  
_This is good progress. Zac is talking to you and wanting to hang out,_ I thought to myself.

  
I gave myself a proper running start before flying midair, my knees tucked tightly against my chest milliseconds before my body hit the water. The splash was large enough to strike Zac and for the first time in three weeks, I heard him laugh.

  
"Thanks for that," he said sarcastically, a tiny smile gracing his lips after he wiped the droplets from his face.

  
"You knew that was coming. When have I ever made a normal entrance into a pool?" I teased him right back.

  
Zac swam over to me and suddenly there we were, bobbing up and down in the eight foot deep water, feeling more like brothers as opposed to just two work colleagues who shared similar struggles. "How are you feeling?"

  
I looked at him, my eyes moving from his forehead to his chin, and then back to his eyes. "I'll admit that I haven't been so great lately," I told him honestly, while leaving out the details of my recent suicidal ideations. "And it's not just the Fenster stuff. I felt... I _feel_ bad for how I left things with you a few weeks ago."

  
Zac nodded slowly and for a fleeting moment I thought I saw him frown. "I'm sorry I haven't been there for you."

  
"I really gave you no choice in the matter, Zac."

  
"But still, I should have been checking up on you. And not in the way I was doing before, of course."

  
We both fell silent again, nothing between us except a palpable feeling of awkwardness. Three weeks ago I was certain I'd made the right call protecting Zac from an inappropriate relationship with me. But then why did I find myself missing his touch? His smell?

  
I decided that we should try to swim away the tension. We alternated swimming from one side to the other, only passing each other in the middle of the pool. It felt good to be moving freely with no thoughts in my mind except trying not to drown. The water carried me as I drifted through it, and for a moment or two I felt as light as a feather, my typical dread and despair no longer weighing me down.

  
Just as I pulled up to catch my breath, I heard Zac yelling at the same moment I felt him jump on my back, landing hard enough to make me sputter in the water. It felt like I had a two hundred pound toddler on top of me with the way his arms wrapped around my neck and his legs around my waist.

  
"Jesus Zac!" I turned my head to look at him, both laughing and coughing, trying to expel the water inside my lungs. "You couldn't have waited till I got a lungful of breath first?"

  
"I couldn't help it! It was the perfect opportunity and I had to take it. Just like when we were younger."

  
I felt him smirking against the back of my head before he slid off of me and swam around to my front. He was still grinning, no doubt at the paleness of my face and the chaotic state of my hair. I didn't miss the feelings of happiness and _something else_ stirring inside of me as my mind drifted through childhood memories. My cheeks were flushed red, I could tell by the way they were burning, as I then thought of those times Zac crawled into bed with me, touching and kissing me in far too skilled a manner for a seventeen year old boy.

  
"Tay." Zac's voice broke me out of what was becoming a very vivid daydream. I blushed even harder, if it was all possible, and I took a few steps backwards and hit the edge of the pool in an attempt to distance myself from him and my inappropriate thoughts. "It's alright, Tay."

  
His voice was soothing, sounding exactly like the way he murmured words of positivity into my ear all those times he'd found me in the midst of a panic attack. He knew what I was thinking, what I was feeling. Somehow, he always knew.

  
He took a few steps forward to meet me, his feet planted on either side of mine on the bottom of the smooth concrete floor. He had that familiar twinkle in his eye, the one he'd always get right before he kissed me. Sure enough, he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine softly, mumbling an "I'm sorry," into my mouth.

  
His words sent lightning through my veins, jolting me forward against him, my arms pulling him tightly against my chest. I twirled us around and switched our places so that I could gently pin him against the tiled wall. I'd almost forgotten the reason why I'd put a stop to this before.

  
I slid my hands into his damp hair, pushing it away from his face so that I could kiss his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. The sigh he omitted as he tilted his head to the side stirred something inside me that felt more primal and animalistic than anything I'd ever felt before.

  
Zac's hands were lightly stroking my back, his wrinkly fingertips drawing lines up and down the curve of my spine in a way that made me shiver. That one act not only reminded me how he'd always been there for me, taking care of me. It also drew attention to how badly I wanted to be the one to take care of him, and dammit if I wasn't going to try.

  
I withdrew with caution, my nose bumping against his in the process. Inside, I was being torn apart with the force of the magnet - one side warning me that what I was feeling for my brother was so, so wrong, the other telling me that no one could be as good for Zac as I was. No one.

  
"Stop thinking," Zac warned, his palms flat against my chest, stroking lightly in an up and down motion, his thumbs brushing against my nipples. "Just _feel_ whatever it is you're feeling."

  
He was right, as always.

  
I kissed him again, this time with fervor, my tongue pushing hastily into his mouth, devouring him like a starved man. When he moaned into my mouth I felt proud, like I'd just won a sought after prize. It gave me enough gumption to slide my right hand into his boxers and cup his already hard cock, my palm and fingers taking in every inch of him. I couldn't stop myself from salivating as I pondered what he tasted like. My hands went wild at the thought, gripping at the waistband of his boxers and yanking them down his hips. He kicked them off eagerly and we both grinned as we watched them float away.

  
"Sit," I motioned to the pool deck and helped him jump up onto it. Strands of damp, blonde hair fell over his eyes as he looked down at me, his thick bottom lip stuck between his teeth. The sight of him in front of me, ready and willing, made my own cock twitch against the fabric of my boxers.

  
I wasted no time in licking a stripe up his cock from hilt to tip, enjoying the salty taste of him coupled with the bitter taste of the chlorinated pool water. My lips curled around the pulsing tip of his cock, sucking at it eagerly, drawing out the first bit of precome. Zac's thighs were trembling beneath me, a warning sign that he was not going to last long at all.

  
"Tay," he moaned pathetically, his eyes half-lidded, skin damp and shiny from the moonlight. I'd never appreciated his beauty until now.

  
"You've got to be quiet," I whispered to him as I gently massaged his balls between my fingers. "We can't wake Dad up."

  
Zac whimpered with a nod and rocked into my hand. His impatience only turned me on more. I wasted no more time and quickly sucked him into my mouth, gripping the remainder of his length in my fist, building up a rhythm that had him keening underneath me. I'd only ever given head once before, a result of unrelenting peer pressure from one of our roadies, and it definitely didn't feel like _this_.

  
I moaned as Zac looped his legs around me and drew me in closer to his body, my hair splayed all over his thighs like a golden halo. He knotted a hand in my hair and tugged roughly, using the other to prop himself up. I had no warning before he thrust into my mouth, deep enough to make me gag around him, but instead of letting up he held me there, whispering "So good," over and over like a mantra.

  
I could feel him tense underneath me, moans and whimpers leaving his mouth as he was about to come. It was warm and salty and not at all unpleasant like my previous time. I drank him up and pulled off him him, licking my lips and trying to regain control of my breathing.

  
As the reality of our actions set in, all we could do was look at each other. There were no words to be said, nothing to be shared that could acutely describe what we were feeling. Zac was breathing heavily, his half hard cock draped across his lap, his bottom lip practically purple. Seeing him this way, I couldn't bring myself to regret what we’d done.

  
"Tay," he breathed, moving his leg to brush against the bulge in my boxers, "How about a shower?"

  
I smirked, knowing exactly what he was hinting at. "Yes. Let's shower."


	10. Chapter 10

The day had finally arrived, and I wasn't ready for it in the least.

Today was the day that we'd sit down with our team and decide on Hanson's future. It was a meeting that needed to happen, probably about six months ago if I were being honest, but I was dreading it nontheless. After everything we'd been through the past year and a half - the tears, the stress, the gut-wrenching disappointment - all of it brought us to this moment, the one where we were finally going to stand up and say fuck all to Fenster and IDJ. But first, we needed a solid plan, one that made sense for the band's future.

I paced back and forth in my room, half dressed and in the midst of a panic attack. I had to get these nerves out of me before they took control of the driver's seat; I couldn't let everyone see my struggle. No, they had to see fake me, the Taylor Hanson who was strong, confident, and a leader. I will be strong for my brothers, as I always have been.

Zac entered my room and locked the door behind him. The minute I saw the look of concern on his face I tried to avoid him - I didn't like being the reason for his unhappiness - so I turned around and moved towards the farthest corner of the room.

"Tay," he called to me, his voice calm and steady. I continued my avoiding stance, although I knew I wouldn't be able to hold onto it much longer. Zac always knew how to break me. I could feel him walking towards me, even without seeing it. His body heat penetrated the air between us as he stepped up behind me. "Taylor."

"I'm fine," I lied, even though I knew that there was no way I could convince Zac of that. After all, he was the only one who had seen through my phony Taylor Hanson charade.

Zac's hands ran up my back and over my shoulders, the roughness of his calloused hands were a shockingly pleasant contrast against my smooth, bare skin. "I know you're not fine," he pointed out. "I don't think any of us are fine, actually."

His words shook me in the most visceral of ways, snapping me out of my melancholy fugue. I was so wrapped up in my own feelings that I hadn't even stopped to consider that maybe my brothers were struggling, too. I turned to face Zac and cupped his face in my hands, letting my thumbs brush over his cheekbones. "Right. You're right," I said softly. "This is a big day for us."

Zac nodded and his eyes slipped shut as he nuzzled into my left hand. Despite the palpable intensity surrounding the day, I found myself smiling down at Zac, the purity of his actions making me want to pull him into my arms and kiss him silly. 

But there was no time for that. Our team was waiting downstairs for us, and we had to go. I planted a kiss to the side of Zac's mouth and released him so that I could put on a tee shirt and run my fingers through my hair to tame it as best as I could.

As we walked downstairs to meet with the rest of the gang - Isaac, Dad, and our Management Team - I could feel my heartbeat increasing with each step I took. My hands were slick against the guardrail on the stairs, and when I took a seat on the chair next to the couch, I quickly wiped my hands on my jeans in the hopes that no one would notice. Zac was sitting opposite me on the other side of the room next to Dad, shooting me a quizzical glance. I shook my head at him.

Dad spoke first, and I was grateful for it. I couldn't even fathom where to begin this conversation. "So as everyone knows, we're not getting anywhere with IDJ. They are roadblocking us at every turn and we're not only losing money, we're losing the time and attention of the fan base. What are our best options? Where do we move forward from here?" 

_Where do we move forward from here?_ Great question, Dad. At this point I wasn't even sure if moving _forward_ was an option for us anymore.

Our Manager tossed a stack of papers on the table, a stack large enough to make a loud _thud_ that reverberated in my eardrums. "What's that?" I asked, watching as Isaac reached for the papers. I examined his facial expressions as he flipped through the first, second, and third pages. My older brother was always so easy to read, such is the life of a person who wears their heart on their sleeve. His brow was furrowed and the wrinkles in his forehead were so defined that I was sure they could be seen from space. He didn't look too thrilled. 

"A contract from Arista Records?" he half-answered.

"Correct. Arista is interested in signing you guys, so long as you break off your contract with IDJ within the year."

I motioned for Isaac to hand me the paperwork so that I could sift through it. Our lawyer would need to look deeply into it of course, but it was an option, one that I was actually surprised we were receiving without really even trying for it. "Getting out of our contract with IDJ sounds messy, and expensive," I said, while knowing that I'd gladly shell out a few million just to be rid of Fenster.

"Great, we'll consider that," Dad responded. "Chris, are there any other options?"

A string of silence lingered in the room before Chris spoke, and I took the moment to look over at Zac who happened to be sitting there with his fingers tapping against the arm of the couch. It was in that moment that I wished I could read him as well as he could read me.

"There's always the option of going independent."

Zac's fingers froze at the words and he looked up at me, our eyes meeting and locking together. We were having the same reaction, a mix of confusion and something akin to shock. We'd talked about this before, the three of us over the dinner table, but had never genuinely considered it. It would take a lot of hard work, a lot of money, and a lot of trust in other people. We weren't businessmen, we were just three dudes from Oklahoma who liked to play music. We weren't entrepreneurs. 

"Well, I certainly think you've given us plenty to think about," Isaac replied with a dry chuckle. There wasn't much to say after that; we had our options and now we had to think on them, get our plan together, and make our move. The three of us watched in silence as Dad walked with Chris out of the living room, the two of them exchanging pleasantries as they moved out of sight. 

The weight of the contract on my lap kept me anchored to the chair, and it suddenly made me feel like I was being sucked into quicksand. I wanted to stand up and run away, but I couldn't. I was stuck there now, but at least I wasn't alone.

"So..." Ike started.

"...that was something," Zac finished.

"'Something' is definitely one way to describe it," I finally chimed in, and with enough fortitude I was able to toss the contract back onto the table. "Although I gotta say, I don't really want to talk about all of this right now. That was a lot of information to absorb in a half an hour, and I think we need to let it sink in for a while before we talk about it." 

Zac jumped up from the couch, his unruly hair in his face as he shouted, "I know what we should do! We should play some football!" Isaac and I both looked at each other and groaned, much to Zac's chagrin. Football was typically our way of releasing creative juices when we were having trouble writing, and that clearly was not our current issue. "C'mon you fuddy-duddies, let's toss the ball around and get some fresh air. It'll do us some good!" 

When we made no move to get up, Zac smacked Isaac upside the head and then he made a beeline for me, so I hastily lunged out of my chair and ran straight for the front door. A stampede of footsteps followed me, and when I turned my head to glance around I saw that Zac was after me and Isaac was not too far behind. I kept running, laughing hard as I zigzagged around the yard, trying to get Zac off my path. But he was too fast for me and before I knew it he had tackled me to the ground, pinning me face first into the grass with the force of his body.

"Ha!" Zac shouted defiantly. "No one can beat me! I totally have you at my merc-" He sputtered when Isaac landed harshly on top of him, no doubt in revenge for the head smack. I was still pinned by Zac's legs, but Isaac had him by the waist and arms, pinning him to the ground next to me. We were all laughing, the deepest belly laughs we shared since we were children pre-fame. The laughter forced tears out of my eyes and I speedily wiped them away with the back of my hand. 

Finally, after a few more minutes of amateur wrestling in the grass, a sense of calm fell between us. Zac was laying with his legs over mine, his head resting against Ike's shoulder even though he was facing me. He shot me a smile and I returned it with tight lips. I could sense it, the unmistakable feeling of gloom hovering over me, superseding the single ray of sunshine in my day.

Zac brushed his fingertips over my hand, and when I saw that Isaac was looking up towards the sky and not at us, I felt safe enough to lace our fingers together.

This had been a nice distraction from the situation at hand, but now as we lay there together, our chests rising and falling as our heartbeats returned to normal, I knew that we were all thinking the same thing: What comes next?


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I may have really fudged the timeline in this chapter. Forgive me!

"I'm telling you dude, she's super cute," Isaac said, leaning forward in his chair as if that would further prove his point. "We've already talked about it, and she said she'd love to meet you. Just think about it, alright?"

He was, in true Isaac Hanson fashion, talking about his latest flame while also trying to find me one as well. He always did this - from the minute I turned sixteen he has relentlessly tried to find me a girlfriend, like I was incapable of finding one myself. It wasn't like I never dated anyone, I'd dated plenty of girls. Just not lately. I wasn't sure if I was really interested in dating, but apparently his girlfriend's best friend thought I was "cute" and wanted to go on a date with me.

I was torn. I wanted to tell Isaac yes, that I'd go out with this girl, but a part of my heart was being held back, pulled in the opposite direction by Zac and the worry that he would hate me. I don't know why I thought that way. Even though we spent every night in each other's beds, kissing, touching, and doing things that two brothers should never do, we never really talked about whatever was happening between us. It was just a part of our daily routine, a way to relax at the end of a busy and stressful day, and undoubtedly we'd begun to rely on it. That's all I knew.

"Okay, okay," I relented, much to Isaac's excitement. I shook my head at the goofy grin he was sporting. "I'll do it."

"Do what?" Zac entered the room with a Mountain Dew in hand, falling onto the couch next to me.

"Taylor and I are going on a double date tonight!" Isaac beamed. "And don't worry dude, if at any point you want to split off at the end of the night for some alone time-" he winked suggestively, to which I rolled my eyes, "-just let me know. Maybe we should come up with a code word." My nose crinkled at the insinuation behind his words, although if he was going to be this annoying the entire night, maybe I would need an escape word after all. 

"Sounds fun," Zac said dryly, his face expressionless. I don't know what I was expecting to see when I looked at him, but there was nothing. No anger, no sadness, no happiness, just a vacant glance in my direction. He took a gulp of his Mountain Dew and when Isaac turned around to pack up his guitar, he reached out and grabbed my hand, squeezing it for only a millisecond.

-

I hated to admit it, but Isaac was right. I was having a great time with Nikki and her friend Natalie. We'd grabbed a few slices of pizza and then went for a walk in Central Park, Isaac and Nikki acting disgustingly cute the entire time, causing Natalie and I to steal knowing glances at each other, laughing under our breath.

Natalie was beautiful and exactly my type, a petite brunette with a smile that could light up any dark room. She was painfully shy, and when I reached for her hand to link our fingers together, I thought she might pass out from the way her blood rushed to her cheeks. Hours had passed and I'd almost forgotten about the awkwardness between Zac and I until we walked past a street performer with long blonde hair, banging on a set of bongos. In that moment I couldn't stop myself from wondering what he was doing, and if he was thinking of me, too.

"Taylor, are you alright?" Natalie asked softly, her eyes filled with concern. Apparently I had been frowning as we stood there watching the performance. Her question snapped me out of my mood immediately.

"Yes, yes of course," I lied, giving her hand a squeeze before we started walking again. We walked for another half hour before Nikki and Isaac found us again. Their hair was disheveled and I was certain I saw blades of grass and leaves in it. I shook my head at them, grinning.

"Well, it's getting late," Nikki said. "Natalie, are you ready to go?"

"I guess so-"

"Let me call you ladies a cab," Isaac chimed in, which generated an _aww_ from Nikki, and another amused glance between Natalie and I.

When the cab arrived, we held the doors open on either side for the girls. "I had a great time tonight," Natalie told me, reaching for my hand to emphasize her point.

"I did too," I heard myself say, and this time I wasn't lying. I smiled down at her and before I knew it, she was up on her toes and kissing me. It was soft and felt almost experimental - nothing like the rough and wanton kisses that Zac and I always shared.

We pulled away and with another _goodnight_ , I closed the door of the cab and stepped up on the curb. I brought my hand to my mouth and touched my lips - they felt tingly, either from her minty Chapstick or from the guilt that was percolating inside me. I couldn't tell which.

By the time we got home, it was just past midnight. Isaac and I went our separate ways and once I was sure he was secured in his room, I bypassed mine and went straight for Zac's. I wasn't sure if he'd be asleep, or if he even wanted to see me, but I was willing to take that chance. I closed the door gently behind me and locked it as I usually did. I could hear his soft, rhythmic breaths and knew that he was already asleep. I shrugged my clothes off until I was in my boxers and my undershirt and climbed into bed with him, my arm draped over his waist and lips pressing against the back of his bare shoulder.

Zac stirred underneath me and just as my eyes closed, I heard him speak. "Didn't think I'd see you tonight," he mumbled sleepily.

I shrugged a shoulder and nuzzled the back of his hair, the comforting smell of his shampoo making me feel intoxicated. "Missed you."

It felt weird to say it, not because it was forced or because I didn't mean it, but because I _did_ mean it. Something snapped inside me when Natalie kissed me, and I realized that I much preferred Zac's thick, rough lips to her tiny, soft ones.

Zac turned in my arms, the both of us laying side by side facing each other. I could tell he was smiling even in the darkness of the room, and it made my heart flutter. "I missed you too. I'm glad you came to me."

Before I could reply his lips were on mine, tender yet full of want like they always were. A small noise escaped my lips before I could catch it and then I felt Zac grinning against my mouth smugly like he'd just beaten me at his favorite video game. I pushed him onto his back and laid myself gently on top of him, covering his body with mine, my left hand running up his smooth chest and the right hand tangled in his hair. He was warm, soft, and familiar, and I realized then that I didn't want anything but exactly that.

His tongue flicked against the roof of my mouth as his hands moved to my backside, cupping my ass cheeks. "I'm all yours, Tay," he whispered to me, pulling away just enough to press our foreheads together. "Are you all mine?"

I should have put a stop to all of this months ago, I should have left and ended up in bed with Natalie instead, but I couldn't change what was in my heart. "I am. I'm yours, too," I whispered. 

His legs wrapped around my waist as he kissed me again, hard and intensely, and I pushed my hips down against him in response. My mind was fuzzy, my blood flowing to other areas of my body rather than my brain, and it felt nice to stop thinking for once.

We mindlessly undressed each other, our lips only parting to remove my shirt, clothes flying everywhere across the room. My hand traveled up and down Zac's thigh, lovingly stroking it while it was wrapped around me, my other arm under his head, grabbing his hair. The moans that left his mouth were unlike anything I'd ever heard from him, my cock twitching as I pushed my hips into his. I wasn't sure where this was leading, all I knew was that I wanted to be as close to him as possible, to feel him in any way I could.

When Zac handed me a bottle of lube from his bedside drawer I felt my heart bounce like a yo-yo in my chest. "Zac?" I questioned, unable to form any other words.

"I want to do it," he said. "I'm ready, and I want it to be with you."

Since I'd lost the ability to speak I nodded my head and popped open the bottle of lube, coating my fingers generously. It took all I had in me to not come right as my index finger pushed into him, the tight muscles constricting against me. I added a second and eventually a third finger, stretching him as best I could to prepare him. He was biting his lip hard and trying not to make any noise, but I knew better. I had him lift his hips so that I could put a pillow underneath him, wanting to make this as pain free as possible. 

"Tay, c'mon. Please,” he begged, the tone of his voice deeper than I remember it being. His eagerness for me made my cock twitch again, a bead of precome forming at the tip.

I pulled his legs up to my chest, his feet hooked under my arms to get him in the exact position I wanted him in. When I pushed my hips forward, the tip of my cock burying inside him, I thought I was going to pass out. He was warm and incredibly tight. He felt like home.

"Are you alright?" I whispered to him and all he could do was nod, so I took my time and pushed the rest of the way in, balls deep inside him. His back arched off the bed, leaving his neck exposed and I couldn't help but lean down and kiss the side of his throat, before attaching my lips to his Adam's Apple. 

I slowly built a steady rhythm, following Zac's lead by the noises he was making, his moans becoming louder the faster I moved my hips. His eyes were shut tight and his hands were gripping my biceps, and it only spurred me on more, wanting to make him come undone beneath me. I reached for him, gripping his cock tightly in my fist, pulling him in time with my thrusts. It didn't take much longer till I felt his walls tighten around me, him whimpering my name as he came between us. 

He looked so beautiful beneath me, his body splayed out for me as he trembled, his hair messy and skin glowing with a sheen of sweat. I couldn't stand it any longer, so I sat back on my knees and grabbed his hips, pinning him to the bed as I came inside him with two big thrusts. His hands were traveling up my arms and then down my chest and stomach, pulling me back to reality.

His legs fell back to the bed and when I stopped seeing stars I looked at him, noticing two small tears falling down his cheeks from either eye. "Are you alright?" I asked, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. I was panicking. Had I hurt him?

"Yes," he laughed and reached for me, pulling me down on top of him. "I'm fine. That was just. It was so... life changing? I think that's the word I'm looking for."

I laughed and kissed him, bumping our noses together. 

If only he knew.


End file.
